Oh, the names this could be called
by believeitgirl
Summary: Neville returned to Hogwarts, Voldemort was killed in fifth year and he desperately hopes this year would be a better one but alas those hopes are shattered once he steps in the Great Hall; or are they? Maybe its exactly what he needs but he dosnt know it
1. Chapter 1

Ello! I have decided to take a break from Imaginary for a day and I'm going to start this! Don't worry; the next chapter of Imaginary will be up soon.

I hope you like this!

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He walked downstairs, his eyes still full of sleep and his brain still muddled from lack of awareness. He did, however, smell the odor that was old lady all around him and he did see the pictures of his parents and family friends as he walked; he could see none of himself.

He walked into his grans kitchen and sat at the table, waiting for the unenviable. His O.W.L.s came in yesterday and his Gran wasn't home when it happened but he had no doubt she found them by now.

He grabbed a bowl from the yellow kitchen cabinet and grabbed the muggle cereal as well; something his Gran hated. He went to the refrigerator and grabbed the white pitcher full of milk and sat down at the mahogany table.

He poured the cereal in first then the milk but before he could put his spoon in a shrieking voice stopped him.

"Neville Longbottom!" There was his Gran, he turned away from his pathetic breakfast just as she walked in; carrying his O.W.L. scores. "What is the meaning of this!" She slapped down the parchment with his grades posted for all to see.

He really wasn't expecting her to see the Outstanding in Herboligy, or the Exceeds Expatiations in Care of Magical Creatures. He knew she didn't even take into account that he went to the Department of Mysteries last year and helped Harry kill Voldemort.

No, everything she said was it was the great Harry Potter that killed he-who-must-not-be-named. That his brave friends helped kill that evil man and some death eaters; apparently he wasn't a part of Harry's group of friends.

All she saw on his test results were the Acceptable in Transfiguration and Charms as well as the Poor in Potions; which he was very proud of. He didn't even open his mouth knowing he'd never get a word in.

"This is unacceptable, Neville Longbottom! You will straighten these grades out as soon as you get to school! You are a disgrace to the Longbottom name; Frank would have never gotten these! You horrible, ungrateful child!" She threw the parchment in his face and stormed off.

He grabbed the parchment and laid it on the table. His Gran was always like his, he was never good enough. It was always Frank did better, or Alice did better, or you parents would have never had these. She was never happy with him and he's given up on making her proud.

He knew she was going to her friends houses and not going to back to see him off to Hogwarts; she only did that in his first year. He also knew that he had to buy an owl before he left; she 'accidently' killed Trevor while gardening one day. All she said about this fact was 'Good riddance, he was getting old anyway.' He, on the other hand, cried all night; Trevor was his only true friend.

He looked to his bowl of soggy cereal and pushed it away from himself; he'd lost his appetite.

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"Bye Gran, I'll write!" He popped his head into the kitchen where his Gran was. He was going to see his parent's then bye an owl before he went straight to the train station.

She didn't even look up from what she was doing but she grunted him a goodbye. He walked to the living room, where the fireplace was, and grabbed the galleons off the table. He then grabbed some floo powder and ducked into the fireplace.

"St. Mungo's!" He yelled clearly before he threw the floo powder down. He was enveloped in green flames and when he opened his eyes he was in the lobby of the wizarding hospital. He nodded to the receptionist and walked back to the ward his parents where in.

As he walked the fair distance to their room he thought a strange thought.

'I always thought it was funny that wizards were burned at the stake for being guilty of wizardry and yet we burn ourselves every day.' Neville didn't think twice about this strange thought; it was a normal occurrence for him.

People thought they knew Neville; scared, loyal, quiet Neville. But they were wrong; they were all wrong. They only being who knew Neville was Trevor and he was gone now; now Neville was all alone in knowing who he truly was.

He came out of his thoughts when he got to the door of his parents room. He didn't knock, just stepped in, and quietly shut the door behind him. He looked around and sighed, nothing changed. It was all he expected but a lot less then he hoped for.

He sat in the chair next to his mother's bed; that was, at the moment, playing with a few dolls. He heard her humming and brushing their hair. He turned and looked to his father who was, still, staring out the window like normal.

"Hi mum, hi dad." He said with the smallest voice possible. He was very uncomfortable with being in the room; everything was white. Contrary to what it was supposed to make him feel, Neville felt like he was being shoved into a tight space instead of an open one.

"I'm headed off to Hogwarts and I wanted to say goodbye." He wanted to leave as quickly as humanly possible. Don't get him wrong, he loved his parents dearly and loved seeing them. But at the moment he wasn't having the best of few days and felling like he was being shut in a box wasn't his idea of a good time.

"I love you both and will come visit at Christmas; I'm sorry for not staying longer." He stood from the chair he was sitting in but was stopped when his mother started to play with his short hair. He relaxed at the touch and sat back down and let her do what she wished.

He didn't get much human contact and the touch was almost foreign to him but he enjoyed when his mother played with his hair. It didn't last very long, like he expected, because his mother acted like a five-year-old with a short attention span.

"Thank you, mum." Smiling he stood up once more. His heart skipped a beat because she smiled back at him; then handed him a wrapper. He took it with the goofiest grin splattered across his face.

"Thanks mum; I'll see you soon dad!" Turning to the other white wall behind him he practically ran out of the room. Unlike when he walked in he slammed the door behind him. He leaned back against it, breathing heavily.

The wrapper clutched in his hands, he brought close to his chest. He was clutching it so hard with both his hands I began to rip. He let out a sob as a few tears streambed down his cheeks; he was so confused.

He loved his mother giving him wrappers, which meant she knew he was there and the nurses told him, he was the only one to receive gifts from his mother but-

It meant that he knew he was missing an important part of himself. His mother and father were tortured until they weren't sane anymore; and even though the woman who did it was now dead, it didn't bring them back to him.

He didn't get to open presents on Christmas day with his parent's by the fire or even get to just laugh with his mother or father; he had to sit and watch a shell of they once was. He had to live with a grandmother who was never happy and never showed that she even cared for him; other then in sending him a rememberall for his studies.

He had to stand next to the Great Harry Potter and his two best friends. Next to people who called him friend because he didn't fit in anywhere else; because he was a lone Gryffindor and Gryffindor's stick together.

After he let his tears dry he stood back up and started to walk toward the fireplace in the wing; before he got there he threw the wrapper in the nearest trash bin. He crouched into the fireplace and flooed to Diagon Ally; he needed an owl.

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As usual; Neville was one of the first to Platform nine and three quarters. He came so early because otherwise he wouldn't get a seat. He smiled to the conductor who smiled back to him. No one really ever saw the conductor unless they came this early or something happened on the train. For the last four years he's seen the man who operates the Hogwarts express.

He handed his new owl, Simon, to the animal handler. They were the ones that took care of their pets as they traveled to Hogwarts; Neville was very grateful for that fact because he was never good with animals.

He walked onto the almost deserted train and walked to the nearest compartment; his trunk he dragged behind him. Once inside he lifted the heavy object onto the rack above where he was sitting; the only thing he kept out were a few books for the ride and his muggle iPod.

Merlin only knows why he got it. There was a wizard who sold it to him and told him that he figured out a way to charge it by magic and it worked in Hogwarts. Neville was skeptical but bought it his second year; he never thought he made a better purchase.

He popped in a headphone in one ear and laid his head against the window. A muggle song came on, that he didn't know the name of, but it sounded like a techno song. He reached for one of his books and placed it on his lap and opened to the first page and started reading.

He had no idea how much time had passed or even that the train was filling up fairly quickly. Sometime in between the ten chapters he put his other headphone in because the one eared listening was starting to annoy him.

He was at a good part in his book, it started talking about the main character escaping and running away, when he heard a slam. At first he thought it was his loud music, a song called 'Youth of the Nation' but he looked up from his book just in case.

He didn't know if he should be pissed or just ignore his problem. The Slytherins sixth year boys, well the one's whose family wasn't convicted of being death eaters, were in his compartment. He didn't know how the Malfoy's were not convicted but it wasn't really a problem to him anymore; his aunt was dead and that was all he wanted.

One of his goons were gone the one called Crabb, he believed; Pansy Parkinson was gone as well, she was usually with the boys. So Draco Malfoy, Gregory Goyle, and Blaise Zabini were in his compartment. All he did was look back down to his book.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the boys leave and concentrated on his book. He got a few more chapters in, liking that he could lose himself in his book and music, when the whistle of the train sounded over his music.

Unfortunately, that meant he wasn't allowed to listen to his iPod any longer. He came to the station third year with it in and the conductor stopped him saying that muggle devices, even ones that have been magically tampered with, interfere with the magic that runs the train. He was fine with it because he usually just read as he listened to the conversations of the Gryffindors in his compartment but at the moment he wasn't so happy.

As he took the headphones out of his ears and wrapped the cords around the white muggle device, the Slytherins decided to walk in. He just glanced at them and played his part of the nervous boy, which he was but he wasn't that nervous.

"Longbottom, this was the only compartment left open so don't bother us and we won't bother you." If Neville had to guess it was Malfoy that said that but he wasn't sure. All he cared about was that they reached a mutual agreement to not speak to each other; he nodded in response.

He closed his current book and set it on the floor and picked up another one; this one started to bore him because he's read it so many times. The one in his hands he had read a few times but he always read it around exam time so he never really got into the story; maybe he should read it now.

He opened to the first page and read A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens in calligraphy type writing. He flipped to the first chapter and wished for the train ride to be over already.

Unlike what he first expected he wasn't distracted from his book because he was surrounded by Slytherins and not Gryffindors. The chatter sounded the same to him, nothing in either cabin really processed in his brain; it was just background mutter.

He looked up from his book to look outside to see how much time had passed and he was surprised to see the sun had fell already and it was nightfall. He looked over and saw the boys reaching for their trunks to change into their robes. He knew they weren't going to change in front of him so he waited to get up until after they were gone.

He quickly changed into his own red and gold house robes and was seated and reading once again when they returned. But it looked like his efforts to get half way through the book were in vane as he felt the train slow and the whistle sound; alerting everyone they were at their destination.

He watched the Slytherins leave as he stood up and closed his book. He picked up the books on the floor and quickly put them and his iPod in his trunk and clamored into the crowded train hallway and eventually off the train.

He set his trunk on the platform alongside of everyone else's and set off to the carriages that would take him to the school. He looked at the Thestral's that were attached to his carriage and smiled to them; he put a mental note in his mind to visit them this year.

He got in the carriage and noted he didn't know anyone surrounding him.

The ride was fairly quick and he loved the sight of Hogwarts coming into view; even more so when he saw the green house. Neville felt like he was coming home.

He stepped out of the carriage last when it came to a stop in front of the entrance to Hogwarts. Before he stepped in he patted both of the animals pulling his carriage on their snouts. They just nudged his hand back and he walked into his home.

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Neville had a preconception of how much better this year would be from his past years. He wouldn't be picked on as much, he didn't have to live in fear of death eaters, and the whole world would be a better place because Voldemort was dead.

Oh how wrong he was. He walked into the great hall and almost passed out.

There were only two tables, one with the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw house flags over one, and the Gryffindor and Slytherin over the other. There were sections cut off with lines that said which year sat where and the gender of the person.

He walked, nervously, over to the sixth year male section and sat down on the Gryffindor side next to Ron Weasley. Ron nodded to him and Neville took no offence in him not speaking, they wanted to figure out what was going on; why the Slytherin boys were sitting opposite of them.

That sorting session had to be the longest in the history of Hogwarts. Neville felt the sigh of relief as Dumbledore stood to give his speech.

"Welcome, welcome back to those who returned. Now I know all are wondering why you are sitting the way you are; why you're sitting with your rival house. Well that answer is sitting directly across from you." Neville looked up to who was sitting across from him, just as everyone else in the room did.

Blaise Zabini sat in front of him, staring right back.

"I do hope you can tolerate those sitting in front of you because you will be spending the entire year with them." Neville swore a piece of him died in that moment.

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So, what you think? I would have kept going but I need to get to bed. I'm up way to late right now. I have four tests tomorrow and I blew off studying for writing this.

I hope you liked it!

Tell me if you like =]


	2. Merlin, they were screwed

Well hello, I'm sorry that I haven't updated this story. I know that people like this story—and I do too, I just wish I could type faster—but I also have my other one (Imaginary) that people love, too. So, I really am sorry.

Also, one of my closest friends died this year and I had ACT and AP classes and collage crap so this year wasn't the greatest year for me. I know you guys don't want excuses for taking so long but I hope you can forgive me.

This story will get a chapter every now and then (now that its summer it might be more now than then) but it's not going to be my main fanfic for a while. Sorry if that disappoints anyone. Though, I will continue with this story. So do not worry that it will disappear or go onto hiatus because I promise you it won't.

Now then—on word!

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Neville groaned and dropped his head down onto the table as the hall broke out into objections; of course, the louder and ruder coming from the Slytherin/Gryffindor table. Though, as he turned his head after he banged it, he swore Dumbledore was onto something. Because all the way at the other end of the table, the first years—being very surprised and scared at their older house mates outburst—just timidly looked at one another, smiled, and politely introduced themselves to one another in hushed voices.

Maybe this was what Hogwarts needed. The war was over, Voldemort defeated, but there would still be house prejudisum between the houses; especially between Slytherin and Gryffindor. But, he had to say, Slytherin gets the most crap out of all the houses because most of their families worked for You-Know-Who; even though he knew for a **FACT** that there were a few Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and even some Gryffindors who sided with him. If keeping the houses separate that meant even the first years would fall into their categories and they had nothing to do with the war!

Yes, even though he didn't like the fact it was probably for the best.

When Neville came back from his musing the sound of people yelling angrily came rushing back into his ears and he groaned once again. Looking back up, he prepared himself to see a very angry Blaise Zabini either screaming and glaring at Dumbledore or at the seething glare be directed at himself but when he looked completely up the coffee colored Slytherin was just sitting there calmly and looking at him with a cool gaze; his eyes only showing that their current predicament both annoyed but amused him.

For some strange reason, that cool gaze that his new housemate was giving him made him turn red in embarrassment; no one ever looked at him like that. Hell, it was rare that someone even _LOOKED _at him, let alone like how the Slytherin was.

Bowing his head a little (mentally smacking himself afterword because it made him look like he submitted to Blaise) to hide the red tint of his cheek, he looked at the empty plate that would soon be filled with food and squirmed under the gaze.

"Hello Blaise." He had to speak rather loudly because of the yelling still going on around him but it barely, just barely, reached the others ears but not anyone else's.

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Blaise raised his eyebrows a bit when Longbottom lowered his head to the table; was it just him, or did that look like a very submissive pose? He remembered half of the death eaters did it when Voldemort looked at them but he thought it was out of respect, now that Neville did it in front of him he wasn't so sure anymore.

But why in the world was the idiot Gryffindor blushing? All he was doing was looking at him—it wasn't any different than it was on the train. Ever since first year, it was Draco who did all the talking and Blaise just gazed out the window but this year he had something else grab his attention. The whole ride to Hogwarts he just gazed at Neville and the scenery outside of the train. More than a few times he was tempted to ask what muggle book the boy was reading because of the faces he made at different points in the book but kept his mouth shut like normal.

So why now? Why was Neville blushing now when he looked at him almost the whole train ride there?

"Hello Blaise." The soft whisper reached his ears (or maybe it was too loud in the great hall) and he saw the small Gryffindor fidget under his gaze and it dawned on him that Neville never looked up once from his book in the train so he didn't even know that Blaise had been looking at him. So he was nervous when he knew that Blaise was watching him? What did that even mean?

He shook himself from his Gryffindor induced trance and mentally shrugged. Whatever, it's not like he cared anyway.

"Hello Neville." He responded in a coolly but, unfortunately, it came out more breathy then anything because Draco bumped him as he stood up angrily to reach across the table for Harry Potter to rearrange his face.

** "SILENCE!" **The booming voice flowed throughout the room making people cringe and sit down. Draco let go of Potter's robes and vice versa at Dumbledore's order and-very reluctantly—returned to their seats.

"Now," The headmaster started to speak again when a pin drop could be heard in the great hall. "I said you will be spending the rest of the year with the person across from you, not that it will be the ONLY person you will spend your year with. I promise you this, the houses will not be merged; you will still be in the house you've come to grow to love." The room gave a sigh of relief but Blaise didn't react at all—he could hear the 'but' coming in Dumbledore's speech; his mother used to do this all the time.

"Although, you will have every class with the house seated with yours. The person sitting across from you will become your partner in everything that you do—such as potions and charms—and you _will_ be spending two nights a week and two weekends a month in the other's common room. The quidditch teams will practice together and the houses WILL get along or everyone in that year _will_ be serving a detention with _BOTH_ your head of houses." Blaise groaned, knowing that it was his year that was going to be spending most of their time in detention and he had a sneaking suspicion he heard Neville groan as well but he could be mistaken because the cries of outrage started once more.

"I will have no argument here." But Dumbledore was louder. "The walls of Hogwarts are mourning at the prejudice between the houses and I believe the founders are rolling in their graves as well." The hall went considerably quieter at that. "This is not what the founders intended the houses to be. Yes, they were all for house pride but not for this. The houses were created to help friendships grow, to know that—in your first year—those around you hold the same qualities and interests as you. The houses were supposed to be a stepping stone into making friends of everyone in the school; but this…" He waved his arms out to the students—most of which were angry.

"This is not what they wanted and this is not what I'll have in my school." None clapped at the speech as Dumbledore retreated to his seat, none dug into their food as it appeared from thin air, no one moved, no one breathed; it was like heart of every person in the room was beating at the same time. But the spell was broken when a cheer was heard from one of the ghosts that floated in the back of the great hall.

The chatter started once again, some angry murmurs still floated about but most had quieted for the moment, as everyone in the room dug into their food. Of course, some dug in with more gusto then others but everyone ate none the less.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Nott looked over himself for a moment, wondering why he started eating, as he put his fork down back on the plate and looked over himself. Blaise, Draco and a few others—both from Slytherin and Gryffindor—looked over themselves as well.

He wasn't expecting an answer; no one was expecting an answer because if it wasn't Nott who asked it, somebody else would have; the phenomenon the just experience seemed like one that they needed to question. But even though Nott, or anyone else wasn't expecting an answer they got one, and it was the most unexpected person with a most peculiar answer.

Blaise watched as Neville slowly set down his fork and looked up at the bewitched sky and everyone looked to him after he spoke with surprised looks on their faces.

"That was Hogwarts."

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Neville was full from all the dinner her just ate and his full stomach made his eyes sag; he hadn't been this tired since the night Harry killed Voldemort. All he wanted to do was go upstairs and go to bed—though he doubted that he could even make it up the stairs and he would be more that surprised if the boys let him go to bed without the welcoming back party they had for one another every year. Great, that meant he was going to be up 'till four in the morning and sleep until noon; his sleep schedule was going to be so out of wack this year. He stifled a yawn and settled for stretching his arms above his head.

When he put his arms back down next to him he reached for the after dinner coffee—he had to keep himself awake somehow—but it vanished before he could grab it. Moaning in despair he looked back up to Dumbledore who stood from his seat in the middle of the professor's table.

"I know this year is going to be a great year and I hope you all enjoy the rest of your night. Off you trot." He clapped his hands together, signaling that they were about to sing Hogwarts' song, and the room burst out into song—just as he predicted.

Neville, half yawning through the whole this, picked a slow beat but luckily wasn't the last one to finish as, apparently, this year it was a Ravenclaw third year who finished with a funeral march melody.

Feeling very greatful, Neville slowly stood like the rest of the great hall, as they headed out of the room and to their house dorms; the end of the traditional singing of the Hogwarts song meant they were headed for bed but apparently this year, that was not so.

A few seventh years reached the doors of the hall but Dumbledore waved his wand (along with a few other professors) and gigantic doors disappeared and reappeared on the side of the hall. Most of the hall just stood there gaping at their headmaster and head of houses but he and a few Gryffindors who were used to his games, just sighed and walked to the relocated doors.

When they pushed the doors open, however, Neville's mouth dropped as he stood gaping at the newly redecorated Hogwarts grounds. It sort of reminded him of the pictures that Harry and Ron showed him of tent city at the Quidditch World Cup. Tents upon tents stood ready for their occupants but they didn't look like the most comfortable things either.

"You all seemed to believe you would be sleeping in your dorms tonight." Every head in the room turned to Dumbledore who still had a twinkle in his eye—though darker and more cunning. "But as you can see, this is not so." He motioned to the tents.

"On this night, you will be sleeping in a tent with your newly discovered partner." Neville was wide awake now, along with everyone else, and grand for what felt like the millionth time that night. He had to share a tent with Blaise? And Ron had to with Nott? And Harry with MALFOY! He discreetly turned and banged his head on the wooden door he was leaning on.

Merlin help them all.

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Hoped you liked!

Tifa 3


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